You don't know
by Ares Is Awesome
Summary: A oneshot taking place between Gregor and the Sword of Shadow and Gregor and the Plight of Flesh. Gregor finally snaps and spits out his secret to cover for himself and get someone to shut up.


Everything sucked. School sucked. Being here in Virginia sucked. Most prominently, however, the kid sitting across from Gregor sucked.

"...you guys have no idea how much it hurt to have to get my fifteen stitches on this hand when I sliced it open with a knife!"

Gregor snorted, not even looking up from the sandwich he was eating. Jarod was without a doubt the most annoying and show-offish guy at school. He had close-cropped black hair, and was a head shorter than Gregor. He was in three of Gregor's classes, and sat at the same table as Gregor during lunch. Stretching the truth was his favorite pastime. While he never really took notice of Gregor, he did occasionally ask-

"What's so funny? Have you ever had a cut stretching across the back of your hand?" He waved his hand, which had a bandage over some stitches on the back of it. The moron was supposedly cutting up bait for fishing when he sliced it.

Gregor couldn't think of what he could actually say to this, so he remained silent, as always.

"I thought not," Jarod said, eying him in annoyance that the story of his bravery was interrupted. How exactly could Gregor shut him up about that, though, short of taking off his shirt and showing the scars? He just scowled, turning back to his lunch. He couldn't really tolerate Jarod well; the comments the shorter guy generated had a tendency to cut deep into Gregor's subconscious, though there was nothing he could do or say about them. He didn't say much, actually.

In fact, he never said one word to Jarod until one day in November. Gregor was at his locker and had just bent down to pick up a pencil he dropped, when Jarod came over out of no where. Where other peoples' lockers were decorated with stickers, cut up magazines, pictures, and just about anything you can hang in a one-foot by three-foot space, Gregor had just one picture, on the inside of his locker door. It was small, bent up at the corners, at least five years old. It was secured to the door crudely with tape on the edges.

"Wassup, Greg-o?" Gregor looked up to see Jarod leaning on the door to Gregor's locker, hand coming dangerously close to the picture.

"Watch it," Gregor hissed, gesturing toward it with his head.

"Awww...who's this, Greg-o? Your girlfriend?" Jarod pulled the picture off the door and held it out in front of him. "Aww...itty bitty Greg-o and his weird-lookin' girlfriend."

With that, Jarod tore the picture in half and dropped it towards the floor. In the same second, Gregor caught the falling halves of the picture, tackled Jarod to the ground, stood up, and put his right foot on the other guy's throat.

"Shut the hell up!" he shouted, waving the torn picture in Jarod's face. "Look what you did, you moron!"

In rage, Gregor put more weight on his right foot, causing Jarod to choke and sputter.

"Gel uff meh, mehn," he tried to say. Gregor considered this for a moment, and moved his foot to Jarod's sternum, before bending down and whispering, "You're coming with me. Now."

Gregor then grabbed Jarod by the collar of his shirt, dragging him into a janitor's closet down the hall. Once inside, He pinned Jarod up against the wall with one hand. Gregor sighed, exasperated. He had to tell someone. He couldn't keep a secret so huge for so long, it drove him insane. Maybe the loudmouth Jarod was not the best option, but he would probably lay off a bit.

"Swear to me that what you are about to hear will remain in your head and not be repeated to anyone. It's for your ears and yours alone. Got it?"

"I don't see what th-"

"Got it?" Gregor barked. Jarod nodded in silence, all trace of humor gone from his face. He muttered to himself, or maybe to Jarod, "You don't know..."

"I-"

Gregor's expression lost its serious edge as he cut Jarod off again. "You want to know all about me? Just warning you, it's such a burden having to keep so many secrets. I honestly don't think you'd be able to."

Jarod nodded once more, seeming eager to prove Gregor wrong.

"You won't believe this," Gregor started. He retold every single thing that had happened to him in the Underland. He told about the prophecies, being a rager, about Luxa and the significance of the picture Jarod had just shredded, the Bane, and about Ares's death. Jarod listened intently, though it seemed as though he did not quite believe all that Gregor said. Maybe not any of it.

Right as he was telling about the last fight he'd had with the Bane, he took his shirt off. He was really pleased at Jarod's reaction to the scars. The guy was speechless at first.

"Fifteen stitches seem like a lot now?" Gregor asked with a slight smile, though it was completely humorless. It was more of a triumphant smile than anything.

"Wow..." Jarod's voice was full of awe. "Can I touch it? To make sure it's real, and not just, you know, special effects make up, like in movies, or something?"

"Be my guest."

Jarod ran his fingers over the rope-like scars that traced their way across Gregor's chest.

"Wow..."

To put it lightly, Gregor never had trouble with Jarod after that.


End file.
